


Unexpected

by Selah



Series: Gensou [12]
Category: Alice Nine, Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Gen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't fair. Bad enough to lose a mentor but to not even be told until so much later....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> another short piece as a fill for a Tumblr meme that may just be outing how long I've had some of these muses. :3

Aoi's moods were all over the place. One minute he was so angry he could hardly see, the next the grief would sucker punch him in the gut and steal his breath. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and he didn't understand how this could be happening. The fact that he had lost a dear mentor was bad enough, but the way he had been left to find out about it.... He didn't even know who he was most angry with anymore, though the man standing in his lounge at that moment made a target too convenient for him to resist.

“How could you not _tell me_?!” he demanded, throwing another mug at the stoic guitarist across from him. Tora caught this one as easily as the last, setting it down on the table behind him.

“I'm sorry, senpai. There are ... rules. Regulations. Orders. But I'm here now and I promise, no more secrets.”

“Don't talk to me about rules and regulations like we're talking about ... about ... this was a person's life! A death! Dammit, Tora, he was my mentor! How could you not _tell me_?!” he insisted and this time it was a pillow that got sucked up into his wrath and spat back out at the younger musician. “How can you just stand there?!”

“Senpai!” and suddenly Tora was across the room, gripping his arms and forcing him to meet his eyes. Eyes that were too pale a shade of brown for most Japanese. “I'm trying to tell you. I'm here to explain, but not if you're going to keep wasting time throwing things at me.”

“What is there to explain?!” Aoi wailed, tears burning at the corners of his eyes as his anger threatened to betray him to his grief. “Issama died a week ago! They've already had the funeral and everything and we weren't even _told_!”

“Senpai, he was my father.”

“W-what?”

“Not ... not physically and it's not something we talked about to anyone else, but legally. It ... he adopted me years ago, when I was still in Givuss, to protect me from myself. I ... that's a long story and it's not really relevant. Just ... I need you to focus, senpai.”

“I _am_ focused,” Aoi huffed, twisting his shoulders out of Tora's hands. “Unlike you, spouting off things left and right that have nothing to do with anything at all!”

“I know what you are, senpai,” Tora said, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “I've known for years, I just haven't been able to say anything. I wasn't allowed.”

“What -?” but before Aoi could finish the sentence, Tora was holding up a sword. At first glance it wasn't much to see: a simple black lacquered saya with plain caps and a single mon imprint. If not for the tiger in the tsuka - and the faint tingle of magic surrounding both it and the one holding it - it would have been completely unremarkable. Tora shifted his grasp just enough to expose the mon, but the imprint didn't mean anything to him. A beat and then Tora's lips curved into a smile.

“Right, you're not from the west,” Tora said, tapping the mon with one finger. “This is the imprint of the Order of the Tiger, the wardens of the West. Humans who have been taught, either by chance or by blood, to recognize and, as necessary, handle the youkai of Japan. I was little more than a foot soldier when Sensei found me, but with this.... This sword, Song of the Wind, marks me as Warden of the West, as Byakko-sama's direct link to those of us who serve him.”

“... if you were anyone else, I'd be calling bullshit so hard on you right now...,” Aoi muttered, rubbing at one arm in growing unease. His true nature, his true history, was something he had been keeping hidden from _everyone_ , even his lovers. He had eventually broken down and confessed to Ryuutarou about it, after things with Kou had fallen apart, but despite sensing the occasional other youkai in among his contacts, both senpai and kouhai, he had kept silent. Silence was the best protection, or so he had always told himself. And now here he was being confronted by a human Hunter, was it any wonder he was on the verge of bolting? 

“Hey, senpai, relax, it's okay. Sensei would skin me alive - or worse - if I let anything happen to you,” Tora said, the sword having disappeared as swiftly as it had first appeared. “You're under my protection, senpai, same as the rest of the family.”

“Wha- ... what rest of the family?” he asked, unconsciously stepping closer to the reassurance Tora was offering even if he wasn't sure he should be. “What are you talking about?”

“It's ... a long, complicated story, but the important part is that Sensei ... Issama ... Tousan ... whatever you want to call him, he has a big heart and a bigger family.”

“Had.”

“Hmm?”

“Had a big heart. You said has. Issama's dead. He _had_ a big heart.”

There was something just a bit worrying about the smile that appeared on Tora's face. Gentle hands landed on his shoulders and coaxed him into turning around. Aoi's heart leapt into his throat at what stood behind him.

“Has.”


End file.
